The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1887-07-03

CHAPTER VII.
''Tbe carpeting was woven ID Turkish looms,
From softest wool of fine Circassian sheep,
1ufted like springy moss in forests deep,
illuminate with all its autumn blooms;
TIE antique chairs are made of cedar trees,
Felled on the lofty peaks Of Lebanon.
'Sofas and couches. stuffed with cygnet's fleece
Loll round, inviting dreamineSs and ease;
The gorgeous window curtains, damask-red,
Suspended, silver ringed, on bars of gold,
Droop heavily, in many futed fold.
land urns of alabaster, soft and bright,
With fawns and dancing shepherds on their
sides;
And costly marble vases dug from night
In Pompeii, beneath its lava tides:
"And on the walls with lifted curtains, see!
The portraits of his noble ancestry;
Thin-featured, stately danes with powdered
locks,
And courtly shepherdesses tending fiocks
Stiff lords in wigs, and ruffles white as snow,
Taught peers, and princes centuries ago,
And brave Sir Arthur. the brayest of the line"
-Stodddrd
1t was indeed lovely boudoir in which
the Countess was reclining in her chair and
it needs no other words than the above lines
to describe it,
The Countess was as sweet and beautiful
as the day her husband brought her from
loveliness-and the dark hair was threaded
with silver; the brow was marked with lines
of care but the sweet resignation of the
mouth and gentleness Of the eyes were most
attractive.
She was attired in flowing morning robe
of rich, blue velvet, with few but rare jewels
and costly lace.
The mother had been dreaming of her boy
and feeling no little amount of anxiety in
regard to him.
The Countess had rarely known a mail
day to pass during the months he had been
away without hearing from him, even if
only few lines, to say that hewas well and
to send love greetings to his lady mother
and the dear ones at home
And now two weeks had passed and no
word, and the Countess greatly feared he
was i'll or so4ne mischief had befallen him.
As the time for the mail arrived the
Countess grew more and more nervous and
anxious.
A gentle tap at the door and Margaret
entered bearing salver which she presented
to her lady.
"a letter. o, Margaretw cried the Count
ess as she took the missive from the salver
and recognizing the dear, Unknown hand
writing, she clasped her hands in Joy.
Eyes, my lady, and from my bonnie boy"
replied the aged servant.
The Countess opened the precious letter
with trembling fingers, anxious and yet
fearful to read its contents, while Margaret
seated herself near by, to wait some mes
sage from the nursing she loved so well.
1t was a long letter and the Countess read
on eagerly to its close-now heaving gentle
sigh as if there We're sad news and then with
countenance beaming with joy.
As she finished the letter she turned to
Margaret and said
Our boy has been i'll, as we feared"
NJ ha1 LODI with n
troubled countenance
mo, only slightly he says-he WIS unable
to write for a time, but he is now quite well
again and he states Opening the letter and
reading)-"Tell nurse that / send her kind
love, often think of her and hope soon to see
her."
Bonnie boy, bonnie boy!" exclaimed
Margaret, with tears of joy in her eyes
'said he nothing about coming homer was
her next query.
''No, not yet He will stay in the States
for awhile and then visit France; after that
he hopes to see us again." replied the
Countess
Margaret looked the disappointment she
felt, but with the exception Of the silent
tear she brushed away, said nothing.
''How like! how very like!" exclaimed the
Countess looking intently at picture that
had been enclosed in the letter.
Margaret looked at her lady eagerly.
SIS it notl" resumed the lady, handing
nurse the picture
Margaret took the drawing, expecting to
see the features of her bonnie boy-but to
her keen disappointment she looked upon
the exquisite face of Nora, whose much
loved features Sir Arthur had striven to
picture and send home to his mother-but
with not word of his love for the fair girl.
Nurse, is it not like Lady Nora, the late
lamented wife of Lord Dudley" asked the
Countess.
eyes, my lady, strangely like" replied
Margaret as she scanned the delicate features
of the fair young girl. And who may she
bel" asked She, looking at the Countess in
quiringly
''She is the daughter of the people with
whom my boy is staying he"-
The Countess was here interrupted by the
entrance of the Earl.
He advanced smilingly to meet his wife.
"Do not rise, my love" said he, kissing
her affectionately as she arose to greet him
with glad smile.
The Earl led his wife tenderly to divan
and, seating himself beside her, drew the
stately head on his shoulder while his arm
encircled her waist.
"a letter, wife," asked he, taking the
missive from the Countess, who had handed
It TO him.
She answered him with fond smile and
patted his stern cheek with her shapely
hand
Margaret had seated herself in the recess
of a window near by with some sewing; her
long years of servitude had made her PRIV
ileged person and she always remained In
nearing when her 'bonnie boy was the sub
iect of discussion.
"Ah, from our boyw exclaimed the Earl,
opening the letter and reading.
He read it through without change OF
countenance
SIS it not sad, dear husband, about the
young girlY said the Countess sadly.
"Yes, my love. But it is just as likely